Little Things
by lord-is-it-mine
Summary: I promise you all the little things. Drabble, Canada's POV, shamelessly stuffed with nothing but fluff. (Title from the 1D song).


Everything is warm. I'm so used to being in my cold house that I can never seem to get truly warm; it's like my blood is ice water. But right now, I'm so perfectly warm that I think I'll never have to be cold again. I can feel the softness of the flannel sheets on my skin, the plushy quilts weighing down on me in the most perfect way. I know that Kumajiro is probably somewhere near my feet- he's like a fuzzy pair of socks curled around my ankles. Even the pillow beneath my head is warm- smooth, like silk, soft like cotton and oh so toasty. And as I really begin to wake up, I can feel something else warm, and it has a hold on me, body and soul. The strong tanned arms snake their way around my slim frame, pulling me close to the firm chest that they're attached to. I smile dreamily and allow myself to be held, enjoying the smell of the skin that is touching mine.

"Good morning Mattie." The voice belonging to the body says. It's husky from sleep, but soft and warm like the blankets covering us. I smile again, nuzzling into the embrace, just wanting to be closer to that voice.

"Bonjour Al." I reply, finally opening my eyes. A bright blue gaze meets mine, and even though my vision is blurry without my glasses, I can tell those eyes are smiling at me. Al reaches behind him to the bedside table, picking up his glasses and putting them on, then doing the same for me. It's a silently tender moment as his nimble fingers move the hair from my forehead and brush against my cheeks as he pushes my glasses up onto my nose. Finally I can see him clearly, and I was right- he is smiling. Somehow it's different from his usual goofy grin- it has none of its usual smirk, no sideways dimples in his cheeks. I recognise it instantly though; it's my Alfred's perfect smile, the very special one that only I get to see. It's a smile that makes me very very happy.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, the smile disappearing for only an instant as he speaks.

"Oui." I yawn quietly. "You?"

"Dude, I had the weirdest dream. Kind of a nightmare actually." He replies as though he's been dying to tell me this. Classic Al, I chuckle to myself.

"What happened?" I wonder, because I know he's itching for me to ask.

"Basically it was just a normal day, right? But a bunch of real wacky stuff was happening." He begins enthusiastically. "Eyebrows and Francey-pants were totally getting along, like, no yelling at all. Italy was bein' all serious and leading a world meeting. And get this: Germany laughed at every single one of my jokes."

"Mon Dieu, sounds like the end of the world!" I giggle. (I'm surprised he didn't tell me some story about aliens or ghosts or man-eating fast food, but I suppose that the thought if Germany laughing is kind of nightmarish). "Or a really parallel universe." I add.

"I know right! But the scariest part was-" Alfred just stops talking, his voice suddenly deserting him. I wait for a moment, confused.

"You were different." He finally whispers. I don't see how serious he is, and I laugh.

"Oh, what? Was I a vampire? A werewolf? NOT invisible?" I expect him to laugh at that last one, but he just shakes his head slowly.

"No. You just weren't yourself at all. Like, your freckles were gone. Your voice and your eyes were so dark and sad. You stopped saying 'oh maple' every time you did something clumsy, heck, you even stopped being clumsy! You couldn't make pancakes to save your life. You stopped saying random things in French, you didn't talk about your grandmother and all the crazy stuff she taught you. You didn't talk in your sleep either anymore, and-"

"Al, calm down." I say reassuringly. He's gone wide-eyed and crazy during his rambling, hyperventilating and talking a million miles a minute. His breathing is out of whack and even as he calms down, his eyes remain big as a deer's in the headlights.

"Don't ever change Mattie." He begs me, cradling me in his arms like I'm glass under his feet or sand slipping through his fingers- like I'm about to disappear.

"But Al, I-" I sigh. He's such a fraidy-cat. "Those are just the little things. I'm not just those things. I'm other things too."

"But those are the things I love most about you Mattie." He explains earnestly. "To me, those aren't the little things, they're the big things. If you stopped being you I'd-" he falters once again. "I don't know what I'd do."

"Oh Al." I whisper, profoundly touched. I reach up to wipe a single tear off his cheek. "You don't have to worry. I promise I won't ever change. Ever." I pause, taking his hand and intertwining our pinkie fingers in the ultimate vow. "I promise to never stop having freckles or being clumsy or making the best pancakes in the world. I promise to always spontaneously speak French and talk in my sleep; and above all else, I promise to always kick your butt in hockey." He snorts sceptically at the hockey jab, and I scowl, secretly glad to have cheered him up.

"I promise all the little things." I say, snuggling back into his arms.

"Love ya Maple." He smiles his perfect smile again, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

"Je t'aime, Al." I breathe, perfectly warm.


End file.
